The First Day Of The Rest Of Our Lives
by liveforthefight
Summary: AU Sara/Cat story. Cat is Sara's math tutor, but Sara eventually develops feelings for her. What happens when Sara lets down her walls and asks for help with her terrible home life? Slight slash, strong mentions of child abuse. FORMERLY CSILOTRGIRL


A/N: Completely AU story where Sara is 14 (ninth grade), Cat is 16 (eleventh grade) and Sara's math tutor (I know, I know, not likely thats why its ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE) This is how the two women meet and what happens when Sara tells the one person available her secret.

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I walked down the hallway, getting ready for my first tutoring session. I had seen Cat around school before and we were in some of the same clubs, which is why I asked her, but I still wasn't sure about where we stood or how it would go. We met at the designated location, me still trying to hide from passers-by, because I knew the people at school would love to jump on the fact that perfect-student Sara Sidle needed extra help in a subject. I sat down, Cat gave me an encouraging smile and we began.

"So," she asked, "do you have any specific questions, or where do you want to start?" She seemed almost as unsure as I was, but I knew she was much less tentative than I was normally.

"Well," I said, "I have all of my homework here, with the problems I got wrong and everything... Maybe we could start there?"

"Sure."

And so it began. Cat was so nice about everything, never making me feel stupid or bad for my mistakes. That was knew to me in the environment I grew up in. She also read me better than anyone I knew including my own parents. I never had to outright say when I didn't understand something, which helped my pride enormously. The first session went by perfectly and I found that I not only better understood the material, but that I was looking forward to the next session, and the next time I would see her. She was definitely something else all right. Even from the start I knew I trusted her, again a first. That night when I got home and my mom was drunk and my dad was missing I got through it by knowing I'd see Cat again soon. That was the first night I dreamed of her. After that it became a nightly thing.

It wasn't all that long before I realized that I was in love with her. Whenever I would see her after school or for tutoring my heart would leap out of my chest the moment I laid eyes on her. I started counting the days until I would see her next, until she became the main feature of my life. She was the light, the silver lining, and the reason I was able to get through the madness at home. Once and a while she would say something like "i'll help you through this" and I couldn't help imagining she meant my situation. I wasn't, according to my parents, allowed to tell anyone what was going on, but I wanted to tell her. More than anything.

One day we were just beginning our session when my mom called me, drunk. She was shouting obscenities, thinking I had done something to her stash of booze. Not only had I done no such thing, knowing what the consequences would be if I had, but she clearly had found it, drank it, then forgotten the entire incident. I, still trying to protect her, walked away from a confused-looking Cat while still on the phone calmly telling her that I didn't do it, without saying what it was in case she heard me. I told her to go to bed, and that I'd be home soon before hanging up on her. That was the first of many calls like it that day. Each time I would respond in a similar manner, but it was also getting more and more difficult. The last time she called me a stupid, worthless bitch and told me she was going to kill me when she got home. This was nothing new, but for some reason it was just one too many times, and everything caught up with me as the tears began to stream down my face. I sat down in the hallway outside the room where Cat was waiting and cried. She eventually came looking for me and found me there. She asked what was wrong, and I told her everything. The words just spilled out, and she held my hand, telling it was going to be ok and that she was going to help me through it. Eventually I ran out of tears and she helped me clean myself up. "This is the first time you've told someone isn't it," she asked gently, clearly already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. My mom told me she was going to kill me if I told anyone." I spoke honestly, though still fighting the small lingering fear that she was going to use my moments of weakness against me, as I was perfectly used to. "Also, after years of trusting someone and having them let you down, you learn to keep your guard up all the time. I don't show weakness because in my house anything that isn't an unbreakable front that is displayed is broken through and used against you in the worst possible way."

"Sara, you never should have had to deal with this honey. I promise you I'm going to help you, and that no matter what I will never hurt you with what you entrusted me today." She smiled and took my hand again. Now that I was calmer I felt the shock wave ripple through my body as out skin touched. This was enough to make me smile, which was very rare. She walked me home and when we reached my door she wrote her phone number on my hand and said "call me anytime, day or night, if you want to talk or if you need to get away. I'm here for you." She hugged me and whispered in my ear that everything was going to be ok. I thanked her gratefully, knowing that I had found someone to confide in, and walked through the door to face my fate.

I stood, facing my mother without fear, knowing this was the only way. I could read the inebriation in her eyes, but I imagined I was in Cat's arms again and I took her beating without making a sound. When I was finally able to escape to my room and lock the door tight before pushing my one bookcase against it to make sure she couldn't get in again, I realized that it was one of the worst I had received in a while. For while I was able to tune out the pain while I was in immediate danger, once the adrenaline wore off it was impossible to ignore. I was covered in cuts from various kitchen knives that I could hear her washing at that very moment, my face was covered in bruises that were already beginning to develop, one of my eyes was black, and my right wrist was probably broken from her multiple torture methods. I had just enough time to gather that much before hearing her trying to bang down the door, ready now for round two. Knowing now that I had options, I grabbed the two most important things to me- my backpack filled with schoolbooks, and my cell phone, and, thanking god for my first-floor bedroom slipped out the window and ran.

Once I was far enough away that I knew she couldn't find me (she was far too drunk and possibly high to think clearly enough to follow) I dialed the number on my hand. Cat picked up on the first ring and I cried into the phone telling her that I couldn't take it anymore. She asked only one question- "where are you" before telling me that she was on her way. She stayed on the phone with me until I could see her car on my street pulling up next to me. I got in, still looking dazed, and she pulled away quickly, not wanting to take chances with my mother. "What happened?" she asked once we were far enough away and pulled over next to a little lake about ten miles from my house.

"My mother," I used the word unwillingly, "apparently thought I had hid her beer." That was all Cat needed. She turned from worried to angry to worried again, finally surveying me for the first time completely.

"Sara, you're hurt really badly!" She, not being used to seeing the results of a "normal day at the Sidle house" was all the more shocked.

"It's worse than the normal day-to-day stuff, but really, its not that bad. I just really didn't want to stick around for more." I was joking slightly, already feeling safer now that I was with Cat again.

"Sara, this is bad. Ignoring how completely SICK, and WRONG, and TERRIBLE," she stressed each word, getting more and more angry at my mother with each adjective, "the entire thing is, some of those cuts are way too deep. Where does it hurt most? I'm going to see what I can do for you now, because I'm guessing you don't want to go to a hospital and fend of a thousand questions." She was right of course, and very perceptive.

"'Well, I'm bruised pretty much everywhere, none of the cuts are going to be dangerous in the long run, but I think my wrist might be broken." I knew from experience that the worst of the bleeding was over, and that while I was slightly dizzy from blood loss I'd soon be fine on that front at least.

"Oh god, let me see your hand," I held up the arm I'd been cradling in my lap to keep it from hurting more than it already did. "Sara, this is definitely broken. God, how the hell did she do this?"

"She managed to knock me down with a frying pan and when I was down she shifted my wrist so my hand was going the wrong direction then stepped down." I was shaking from the memory and soon I was shivering uncontrollably.

"Sara, honey, you have to stay with me here. I want you to take deep breaths in and out for me, and drink this," handing me a bottle of water, "you're starting to go into shock and it would be better if we didn't go down that road." I had read about that in health class, and I too knew the signs. I did as she said, reminding myself that I was safe now, and that she couldn't hurt me at the moment. Soon it passed and I felt as back to normal as was possible under the circumstances.

"I'm fine now," I said, using my signature line for teachers or doctors who got overly concerned.

"No you're not." It was the first time anyone had questioned me on it.

"I meant I'm not going into shock. But really, I've had worse," I said, as she started splinting my hand, convinced that the danger of going into shock had passed.

"I know, and that just makes me want to kill someone. No one should be allowed to do this to you. Ok this should hold for a while, but it looks like a trip to the hospital is unavoidable. I'll take you home, we can get you out of those bloody clothes first and get you cleaned up a bit."

I looked at her confusedly "You aren't going to make me go home?" I was hopeful, but not overly so.

"Who in their right mind would send you home after this? No, you're going to stay with me."

"Won't your mom be mad," I asked, not having any conception of a normal family or a normal mother, just knowing if I brought someone home it would mean certain hell.

"Of course not! She'll want to help you as much as I do. And Sara, I think you should report this. The police will take you out of the custody of your parents then you can come live with me. We have room in our house, and my mom will adopt you. She's a single parent, but I promise life would be better that way."

"I'm not sure... I have to protect them." That was how I was trained, what I was used to, and what I had accepted as the truth.

"No, Sara, it's their job to protect YOU and they clearly are doing the exact opposite. You don't have to do anything for them anymore. They will never hurt you again." I sighed, picturing the life she was suggesting to me- no more beatings, no more fear, and a chance at normalcy, all the while having Cat by my side.

"I just need some time to get used to the idea that things really could be different," I said, my head still reeling with the possibility of a brighter future, "but I think you're right, that is, if you and your mom don't mind?" I still wasn't sure there were people out there who could really care about me.

"Of course we don't, I just want you to be safe and happy. You deserve that much. You're a good person Sara, despite what you may have come to believe, and you never should've been hurt this way. Just let me make good on my promise I made earlier. I want to make sure everything really is going to be ok for you."

My jaw dropped, I wasn't used to people caring beyond on a professional level. I didn't have much time to think about it though because at that moment we arrived at Cat's house, got out of the car, and walked inside. Cat loaned me some of her clothes, and while I was changing I heard her telling her mother everything. I came out of the bedroom and down the stairs to meet her. She turned out to be as nice as Cat had described. She took one look at me and, after greeting me warmly and introducing herself, told Cat she was right, and Cat ushered me out the door and back into her car. "You ready?" She asked looking me over.

"Ready for what?" I asked, suddenly filled with trepidation.

"Well, I'm taking you to the hospital to get your wrist fixed. The doctors and nurses are going to ask some questions, and I think now's as good a time as any to start answering them honestly."

"Not tonight Cat. Let me play this one out, then in the morning you can take me to the police station and I'll tell them the full story. I just want to do this the right way so that I don't end up in the hands of some social worker. If we go through the police with your mother there I can probably stay with you until the adoption is settled." I still couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth but I knew it was the only way to convince her.

"Alright, you make a point, but I'm still not happy with letting her walk free for another night after what she did to you, what she's been doing to you, what she'd be doing to you if you hadn't called me, which I'm really glad you did by the way."

"Me too" I admitted.

We walked in, Cat filling out the appropriate forms while I dictated. I'd been through the process so many times that I knew the information that went in every box. Hell by the time I was five I had memorized my social security number. I felt a strange sense of deja vu, and I kept thinking any minute my mother would start on her string of false apologies and promises, but some part of me knew that it really was different. Cat was with me this time, and when she held my good hand it was a sign of comfort and care not a subtle warning that she could break the other one if I didn't tell my story right, which was what I was used to. I swear to god I had been in more casts, stitches, and braces than any kid on the planet, and I knew most of the doctors by name and face, which is why I smiled when my name was called by Doctor Walsh. He was nice enough, very gentle, but never asked prying questions, which is just what I needed at that moment. Frankly, I was burnt out, and both physically and emotionally exhausted from everything that had happened in the past 12 hours.

They x-rayed my wrist, quickly determining that Cat's original analysis was correct- it was severely fractured. They agreed to give me a brace as long as I agreed to keep it on at all times, as the bone was in no danger of coming out of it's set position as long as slight pressure was on it and it didn't move around too much. I agreed willingly, glad I would have the option of showering without a plastic bag over my arm.

After quickly examining my cuts it was determined that I didn't need stitches and that I could be on my way. Cat and I left, holding hands again. I was surprised that they let me out of there with nothing but a few sideways glances, but then again they were very busy that night. We got back to Cat's house around ten, glad it was Friday and that we wouldn't have to go to school again until Tuesday, since Monday was some sort of staff-work-day where the students didn't go to school and the teachers got caught up on their grades. When we got in Cat's mom Beth was waiting up for us and we all sat down at the dining room table to talk. I told Beth everything I had already told Cat, and she agreed with everything her daughter had said. She wanted to adopt me as soon as possible and also said that I should go to the police as soon as possible. I submitted, saying I would report it first thing in the morning. Beth then made hot chocolate for all of us, and left Cat and I to talk, telling me to come get her if I needed anything. I thanked her, and sat across from Cat drinking my hot chocolate in silence for several minutes, just staring off into space and thinking.

"What are you thinking about" Cat finally asked, gently bringing me out of my reverie.

"I'm trying to find the best way to tell you something, but I don't wan't to screw anything up now. I finally feel at home here and I don't want to scare you away."

"Sara, I promise, there is nothing you could tell me that would make me walk away from you right now." She sounded like she meant it, so I proceeded.

"Cat...I... " I almost couldn't do it, but then I thought about who I was talking to, and how she had saved me so I continued, "I... like you."

"I like you too Sara." I wasn't sure if she understood completely, so I proceeded.

"No, Cat I mean, I'm a lesbian and I LIKE you. As in want to date you."

"I know. Sara, I want the same thing. I want to date you. I want to take you out. I want to make you happy. I want to be the one you come to with all of your problems, and I want to be the person who helps to fix you."

Then, for the infinite time that day I started to cry, but this time for an entirely different reason. I felt loved, and safe, and at home, and for the first time in as long as I could remember I felt happy. Not just minute-to-minute happy but really, honestly, I'm-going-to-explode-from-so-many-amazing-emotions happy. She knew it too because she instantly smiled and hugged me saying, every day will be like this Sara. Without the hospital trips and pain." I smiled too and we, together, made our way up to bed. The last thought in my head before I fell asleep was how good it felt to have someone who would be there when I needed them.

I apparently slept in the next day, since when I awakened the clock said noon. I jumped out of bed frantically ran downstairs only to be caught by Cat. I started into a long-winded half-begging apology but I didn't get to finish, because my mouth was instantly busy with Cat's lips. When she pulled away and I got my breathing and heart rate back to somewhere near the range of normal she told me that it was fine, I had obviously needed the sleep so she let me sleep. That was really when it registered for me. She wasn't mad, I wasn't in trouble. She accepted me, and I'd never have to worry about my parent's overbearing and insane rules again. Beth then came into the room and started making huge stacks of pancakes with mounds of bacon on the side. My stomach instantly inserted its protests at the lack of food I'd been taking in lately, and Beth stacked my plate a mile high and told me to eat. I did. I had never eaten as much as I did that day, and Beth kept trying to get me to eat more. She said I was too skinny and clearly needed some meat on my bones. However true that might have been I still wasn't sure where the boundaries were and I really didn't want to test them, so I finished off one helping before washing my dish, drying it, and putting it in the cabinet, which would've been a much easier task if I hadn't had the annoyingly bulky brace to contend with, and also if I wasn't completely sore from yesterday's events.

Afterwards, we all piled into Cat's car and drove to the police station. I was really scared and not entirely sure if I was doing the right thing, but Cat sat next to me and assured me that this was the best thing I could do. After Beth got us into a private room with an officer and what I assumed to be an analyst of some sort by saying a few simple words to the person at the front desk, the officer asked me many questions, which with Cat's encouragement I answered in as much detail as possible. Some were more difficult than others, such as my Dad's sexual abuse of me, but I handled it as best as I could, and eventually I was led into a separate room to be photographed. They wanted Cat to leave as well, but I asked very forcefully if she could stay, and they complied. First they photographed my face and wrist, which was the easy part. Then they had me take off my shirt to reveal all the healed-over scars. Cat took in a breath at the sight of all of them, then just said "Are all of these...?" I nodded, knowing there was no point in lying anymore. As soon as the photography was done the officer was going to have us leave, but I requested that I be allowed to be present for my mother's arrest, so she would know that I was safe and well, not that she cared, but I thought someday along the line it might help to ease her mind while she was sitting in a cell. He agreed, seeing how important it was to me. He said that Cat too could come along for moral support, but Beth would have to remain behind, since they didn't want too much of a scene.

We made the short drive to my old home in record time, probably because of the siren, and I stood against the car as the police broke down the door and brought out my father first. It seemed like they couldn't find my mother when suddenly she appeared on top of the roof gun in hand. Cat and I screamed "GUN!" at the exact same time and the cops all took cover. I stood frozen by shock as my mother pointed the gun at me and fired. That was the last thing I remember of the next several minutes. I came to fairly quickly however to the sight of Cat leaning over me. My mother had apparently tried to kill me, but had only succeeded in shooting through my ankle. Aside from the hole in my leg I was fine, and the first thought that registered was how happy I was to be alive. The next was the searing pain that came from the gunshot, but I suppressed it out of habit and out of the fact that I desperately wanted to know what happened to my mother. I asked the officer who was walking by, yelling rapidly into his radio for an EMT. He replied that after she shot me she had began to look suicidal, so they shot the gun out of her hand, stormed the roof, and took her into custody along with my father. He also said that he had had another officer back at the station check out the adoption papers that Beth had given them and that he had decided they were legit, meaning I didn't need to go into the care of social services.

The ambulance chose that moment to arrive and as that medics jumped out the pain caught up with me and I passed out again, finally succumbing to the overwhelming darkness. When I awakened it was several minutes later and we were at the hospital. The bullet had been a through-and-through, so I didn't have to have surgery, they just had to tightly wrap it and I had to be fitted for crutches. I groaned at this, hating the idea of not being able to move around under my own power. When I tried to walk however, I realized the doctor was probably right. It also turns out I had been insanely lucky. There had been no ligament damage, only small bones and muscles had been damaged, and they would quickly rebuild themselves. The doctor soon came in to discharge me, and Cat, who was sitting next to the exam table, couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I looked like a kid at Christmas. I retorted with a quick comment about how it wasn't my fault that I'd spent so much time at the hospital that it was more familiar than my own home. We laughed for a while, and when I finally hobbled out of the hospital, still in my wrist brace and now in an ankle cast I realized that I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life.

"So," said Cat as we looked out over the sunset before getting in the car, "This is the first day of the rest of our lives" and so it was.

A/N: Well, this was just an idea that popped into my head... Please let me know what you think since this is my first AU story


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